


Like My Mother Before Me

by SinCitysGreatestHits



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Cousins, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders In Love, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is a Good Friend, Custody Battle, Death, Deutsch | German, Divorce, Español | Spanish, Fairy Godparents, Gay Logic | Logan Sanders, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Italiano | Italian, Kid Thomas Sanders, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Protective Morality | Patton Sanders, Sad Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Swearing, Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinCitysGreatestHits/pseuds/SinCitysGreatestHits
Summary: Roman Alessandri had liked to consider himself happy.  He had his restaurant, which was doing quite well, his son, Thomas, and his wife.  Until, he suddenly faced losing everything.Five years into a brutal custody battle, Roman can barely afford any lawyer, let alone a decent one.  Fortunately, Patton Flores, Thomas' legal representative, knows a guy.Logan Voss is a whip smart lawyer who just started his own firm.  The second he says he'll take pro bono cases, Roman could kiss him.Figuratively.Because Roman will do anything to protect Thomas from fucking Steve Smith.





	1. The Sun Rises in the East...

Roman Alessandri was born full of passion.  His mother told him that, when he was born, instead of shrieking, or sobbing, as other children do, Roman had been laughing.  His infectious joy had made his mother smile, and that's what helped her keep smiling when his father left.

Roman grew up surrounded by the warm tones of his many Italian relatives, smooth and flowing, like a river of sounds.  He had always loved the language, the history, the culture of his people, and his  __ __ _nonna_ laughed.

"Your world is too big to not love every part of it," she remarked.

Eventually, Roman's world grew a bit bigger, and he loved every part of it.  His father's family reached out, wanted to get to know them.  They were Russian, and they were different, but Roman thrived on their differences.  His rolling Italian tongue struggled with the harsh Cyrillic accents, and his cousin, Remy Sobol, laughed loudly, and Roman laughed with him.

When Roman grew up, he and Remy remembered their passions for their histories, their cultures, and they opened a restaurant.  After a rocky start, Remy was kicked out of the kitchen for somehow underspicing  _coffee_ , and Roman was allowed to let loose.  His passion flared forth in his massive seasonings rack, which he used liberally, whenever possible.  Remy stayed in the bar, and summarily banned any and all spices from his workspace.  Roman didn't question Remy, and Remy didn't question Roman.  The restaurant was called  _Sasha the Weasel_ , and people adored it.

One fine day, Remy brought back a food critic for a newspaper to "take a look around." Her name was Tiamat Sullivan, and Roman thought she was incredible.

Days turned to weeks turned to months turned to years.  Roman married Tiamat, and Remy was his best man.  He said his vows in Russian and Italian, and his mother and his  _nonna_ cried.  He took them to his restaurant afterwards, and they smiled at him through their soups.

"You have a nack for herbs, Roman," Nonna told him later.

Nonna died in her sleep, at the ripe old age of 87, and Mamma wasn't long behind her.

Both Roman and Remy cried, but their sadness could not last forever.

Not while Thomas was there.

Tiamat had wanted to name her son after his grandfather, and Roman had readily agreed.  His son's full name was Thomas Antonella Paola Alessandri, after Roman's mother, and Nonna.

Tiamat let Roman baptize Thomas, and name Remy godfather.  She had never cared much for Roman's family history.

Roman loved Thomas.  He sang to him in Italian, and let Remy teach him how to make a martini in Russian.  Thomas grew up happy, and so Roman was happy.

Until Tiamat handed him the divorce papers.

Roman had never felt so cold.

Tiamat wanted Thomas.  Roman couldn't let that happen.

So they fought.

And fought.

And fought.


	2. ...And Sets in the West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Present Day
> 
> POV Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Welcome to my AU! Comments and kudos, please!
> 
> This AU features German Logan (always been a headcanon of mine), Russian Remy (saw in a truly masterful soulmare AU once, I'll try to link it), Spanish Patton, and Italian Roman.
> 
> Tiamat is my name for the dragon witch. Steve, mentioned later, is the Manticore-Chimera.
> 
> I have experience in neither law nor the business end of running a restaurant, and as such may not always be an accurate depiction.
> 
> Roman's restaurant is NOT strictly Italian food, because he also has his Slavic heritage he wants to honor. However, in keeping eith the Italian recipes I've read/made, he is enthusiastic about seasonings, whereas Remy is more reserved about adding anything more than salt.
> 
> WARNING: Steve could be considered potentially triggering for past victims of abuse (though not especially in the chapter), and I encourage self-care and responsibility.

Thomas fidgeted in his seat, staring at the clock.  It was his last class of the day, Mental Health, and while normally he loved that class, today he couldn't wait for it to be over.  Dr. Picani had just wrapped up his lecture on self-worth, and now students were milling about the classroom, waiting for the bell.

Finally, the sharp clang bounced around the room, and Thomas was out like a shot before the echo had even subsided.

Once he reached Joan's car, Thomas stopped, and leaned against the door impatiently.  They  _had_ to know what day it was, what was taking them so long.

After what seemed like hours, Joan finally walked up, Talyn tagging along behind him.

"Come on, come on," moaning Thomas, tugging petulantly at the door handle.  Joan rolled their eyes, and unlocked the car.

Talyn blinked.  "I think he just broke the sound barrier."

Joan chuckled, and slid into the drivers seat.  Thomas was practically bouncing up and down in irritation.

"Who lit a candle under your butt?" Talyn asked from the back seat.

"Seriously?  It's Friday, guys, I've literally talked about it all day!"

"Oh, yeah.  What's the significance of today again?" Joan asked, feining ignorance.

"It's the end of the week!  That means it's my dad's last day, and-"

"-your mom has custody on weekends, yeah, yeah, I remember," Joan finished, starting the car.

Ever since Thomas was ten, his mom and dad had been locked in a brutal custody battle.  Since his dad lived closer to the school, Thomas stayed with him during the week, and went to his mom's on weekends. Nobody was really happy about it.

Thomas liked to get home quickly, so he could hang out with his dad before his mom and her boyfriend showed up.

Joan pulled in front of Thomas's place, and had scarcely turned the engine before Thomas flung himself out of the car.  

"Dramatic much?" they muttered to Talyn, who shrugged.

Thomas, meanwhile, had his arms wrapped around his father, Roman Alessandri, who laughed, and ruffled his hair.  

"Nice to see you, too,  _patatino_!"

"Hi, Papà.  Where's Krestnyy?"

"Remy?  He's getting Starbucks.  No one wants alcohol at this hour."

"Is he freaking out about the nutmeg and cinnamon in your coffee?"

"It's only right.  Milk is not a seasoning."

"I'll take your word for it."

Joan cleared their throat.  Them and Talyn stood awkwardly in the door to  _Sasha the Mink_.  Thomas, Roman, and Remy had a small apartment above it.

"Hey, you two!  How was school?" Roman smiled at them, and Thomas finally released his fatger, if somewhat reluctantly.  

"School was fine.  Not a lot of homework.  Dr. Picani let us browse Tumblr in class," Talyn responded.

"All good things, all good things.  Now, it's just about four o'clock now, and Tiamat doesn't get here til four-thirty, so-" Roman started.

"Did somebody say 'bitch?'" a loud voice interrupted.  Everyone shot a glance towards the door, where Remy had just burst in, holding two Starbucks cups.

"I got one overseasoned monstrosity for my idiot cousin-" he started, holding out the darker of the two cups.

"-and one coffee blacker than your soul for you?" Roman finished teasingly, glancing at Remy's off-white beige iced coffee.

"Excuse me, I'll have you know that milk is the spice of life, thank you very much!" Remy sniffed indignantly.

"No.   _Spices_ are the spice of life," Roman shot back exasperatedly.

"Lies!  Lies and slander!  Thomas, Joan, Talyn, tell him how wrong he is!"

Talyn muttered something about impartiality, while Joan coughed into their hand awkwardly, and Thomas sputtered for a solid fifteen seconds.

Remy busied himself around the bar.  No one was there yet, but it was pretty much almost five, a.k.a. the time when people can get drunk in public places without feeling shit about it.  Joan and Talyn had evening shifts to take care of.  Talyn was a host, and Joan was a waitstaff.  Thomas bused a couple empty tables.

Roman just leaned on the edge of the bar.  No customers were in yet, no one needed to be served.  He had some soups in the oven that he kept popping in to check on, but otherwise it was just the five of them, laughing and teasing as they merrily went about their business.

A harsh grunt finally put a stop to the fun.  

Thomas looked up.  It was Steve, his mom's boyfriend.  Steve had thick orange hair, and tiny, beady eyes.  A tattoo of a chimera wound up his left arm, and a manticore around his right.  Remy thought he looked utterly ridiculous.

"Time to go, sprat," he muttered.

That was another thing.  Steve never called Thomas by his name, instead only using 'sprat,' if his dad was nearby, or 'brat,' if no one cared.

Thomas begrudgingly heaved his backpack over his shoulder, and shlumped over to the door.

"Bye, guys," he called.  "Bye, Papà.  Bye, Padrino.  See you on Sunday."

There were a couple of quite goodbyes.

Thomas turned away from the haze of melancholy that seeped into the restaurant, and followed Steve to the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian:  
> Patatino: little potato, term of endearment to children  
> Papà: dad
> 
> Russian:  
> крестный (krestnyy): godparent
> 
> Just a quick little introduction before we dive in.
> 
> Comments and kudos spend just like money here on the Internet!


	3. Now Night Has Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is Very Stressed™  
> Patton just wants to help  
> We finally meet Logan
> 
> POV Roman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there!  
> This'll be a bit of a slow burn  
> Logan Voss, everyone!

Roman was seriously hating his life right now.

Five years was a ling time to pay a lawyer, and those didn't exactly come cheap.  Now, just when Roman was pretty sure he needed one most, he found that he was pretty short on funds for the aforementioned specialist.  

Roman groaned, and put his head in his hands.  He was going to lose custody.  There was no way he could keep going at this rate.

There was a soft knock at the door, and Roman groaned some more.  He had forgotten what day it was.  Not that he didn't enjoy Patton's company.  It was just a little close to home.

"Hey, there.  It's your fortnightly danger assessment, Patton Flores!" came the soft call.

Roman didn't move, so Remy let him in.

Patton Flores was a child advocacy lawyer, representing Thomas' best interests in the divorce.  He was short, and incredibly sweet.  He and Roman had been through three false molestation charges, an allegation of mental illness, and numerous threats made at their places of work.

Just last week, Tiamat had tried to start a fire in front of his restaurant.  Roman hadn't pressed charges, and Thomas still had no idea what had happened.

The inspection didn't take long.  The house was too small to take up more than an hour.  

"Welp, everything looks just as good as two weeks ago!" Patton stated cheerily.

"Why do you even have to come every two weeks?" Remy asked, as he wiped down his counter.

"Ms. Sullivan keeps filing claims of abuse, neglect and/or incompetence.  I'm required to."

Roman groaned again from his spot on the counter.

"Just so you know," Patton added shyly, empathetic as always, "My team still supports you for custody."

Roman snorted.  "Well that's not gojng to matter for too much longer.  I can't afford a lawyer anymore.  I'm going to lose custody."

A heavy silence leaned on the trio of stressed out men.

A beat passed.

Two.

Three.

Slowly, Patton spoke up.  "I might know a guy.  He just started his own firm.  Maybe give him a call." Patton laid down a simple business card, white with black writing.

 

> **Logan Voss**
> 
> **Attorney**

Below that, there was a number and email.

Roman shot upright, staring at the card.  Would he really take his case?

"I hear he takes pro-bono," Patton added.

Roman leaped to his feet with a whoop.  In the middle of sprinting upstairs to grab his phone, he called over his shoulder, "Thanks, Pat!  You're a lifesaver!"

Remy and Patton chuckled.

* * *

Roman left a message with a bored sounding secretary, who gave him a time and address.

So, here he was, waiting in a small, modest office, trying to call upon half remembered quips from Thomas' psych class to figure out just who he was dealing with.

It wasn't helping.

When the door finally opened, Roman whirled around, desperation etched into every lineof his face.  To his credit, the lawyer didn't seem taken aback.  Then again, lawyers saw people in dire straights all the time.

"Salutations, I am Logan Voss.  And you are?" he asked politely, offering a hand.

Roman accpted it.  "Roman Alessandri.  Good to meet you."

Logan grunted a little at the grammar error, but sat down nonetheless.

"Now, Mr. Alessandri, how may I assist you?"

"Well, my wife's been divorcing me for the last five-odd years now," Roman started.  Logan's eyes widened imperceptibly, but he nodded for Roman to continue.  "It's pretty much just a fight over custody of my son, Thomas.  He's sixteen," Roman added.

Logan nodded again.

"Anyways, my funds were never that great to begin with, and now they're pretty much just non-existent.  Thomas' advocate, Patton Flores- you might have heard of him- said you'll take pro-bono cases?" Roman finished, a pleading lilt in his voice.

Logan seemed to consider that.

"I do pro-bono, and I'd be happy to take your case."

Roman could feel a wide grin stretching his face.  All hope was not lost!  He could kiss Logan right now.

Roman's eyes ran up Lovan's sleek figure, taking in his smooth jawline and diamond-bright eyes.

 _Figuratively,_ Roman added hastily.   _I could kiss him figuratively._

"If you don't mind me asking, why have the proceedings taken so long?" Logan questioned, pulling out a notepad.

"Well, first she accused me of molestation," Roman started.  Logan immediately dropped his pen.

"That's what she led with?" he asked incredulously.  Roman shrugged, and continued.

"Then, after that got proven wrong, she claimed he had ADHD, and I couldn't handle a kid with ADHD.  Then, she said I had autism.  Then, when Thomas came out in freshmen year, she said I was homophobic, and would kick Thomas out.  I had to come out to the entire courtroom."

"I'm assuming this didn't exactly endear you to the jury."

"No.  It didn't endear me to her either.  Right now she's trying claim I'm having an affair with my cousin.  It's taking longer than it should to to get it thrown out."

Logan nodded once more, and scribbled a couple notes in his pad.

"Who is your wife's attorney?"

"Uh, James Alexander."

Logna put away the notepad, and stood up.  "That will be a for now.  Thank you for your time, Mr. Alessandri."

"No, no, the pleasure's all mine."

With that, Roman skipped on back to the restaurant, armed with enough details to satisfy even Remy.

Meanwhile, Logan Voss put his head in his hands and groaned.

Logan was seriously hating his life right now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I know nothing about lawyers, im just guessing how obtaining one goes.
> 
> Comments, kudos, questions, oh boy!


	4. Stress is My Middle Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan is very gay, and very stressed.  
> Patton finds a pretty boy  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this took so long. Happy New Year!
> 
> Have some Logan POV to kick off 2019!

Logan leafed through the thick case file wearily.  Roman's divorce was quite easily the biggest foldet he had ever seen in his entire career.  Roman had pretty much agreed to everything, even moved out of their house to move in with his cousin.  The only hang up was custody, which seemed like a pretty mute point by now.  Thomas was sixteen; he'd be leaving in two or so years.

Nevertheless, the child advocacy lawyer, Logan's old friend, Patton, recommended Roman for custody, mostly on the grounds of Tiamat's new boyfriend.  Apparently, everyone involved was quite uneasy with him.

Steve Smith.  That sure sounded familiar.

Logan sighed, and put his head on his desk.  He was working this monstrosity pro-bono, and was man enough to admit that Roman's charming good looks had played a part in that decision.  All the same, he couldn't exactly bring himself to regret it.  

Besides, this case could be fun.

Maybe if he just kept telling himself that, it would come true.

Logan sat up, and pulled out his laptop.  He needed to set up another meeting with Roman, to get a bit of background, and he needed to meet with Patton and lecture him on objectivity.

Patton comes first.  He's usually free on Wednesdays.

* * *

Sure enough, Patton was looking over his own file on Thomas Alessandri, and frowning sadly.  Logan wrapped his knuckles against the door frame politely.

 Patton looked up, and smiled brightly.

"Hey, there, Lo!  How's it going?"

"Fine.  I met with the man you recommended me to," Logan started, all business.

Patton nodded briskly.  "Oh, good!  We're all really supporting Roman, but employing a lawyer for more than a year is basically just burning money you don't necessarily have.  You taking his case pro-bono?"

Logan let out a low, unnecessarily long groan.  Patton's smile quickly morphed into a smirk.

"He's cute, isn't he?"

"I hate you."

"Single, too."

"I despise your existence."

"I seem to recall him being gay.  Or maybe bi?"

"There are over three million words in the English language, and none if them come close to describing how much I aant to hit you right now."

"What about German?"

"Just one.   _Backpfeifengesicht_."

"What's that mean?"

"A face just begging to be slapped."

Patton laughed, and stood, giving Logan a playful shove.  "You wound me!"

Logan scowled, and followed Patton out of the office.

A couple minutes later, the pair of them sat down for coffee.  School had just started, so the sun was still warm on their short sleeves.  Patton was drinking black coffee with eight sugars (how was that man still alive?), and Logan had a latte with cinnamon and cloves.

"So, we agreed Roman's cute, right?"

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose exasperatedly.  "Patton, you and I both know that it's unethical to engage in a relationship with a client.  And  _illegal_.  Do you want me to get disbarred?"

Patton flushed.  "No!  Wha-no!  I'm just saying, here's an option, for when we have a verdict.  A pretty option.  A pretty option who's gay.  A pretty option who's-"

Logan put up his hands in surrender.  "Okay, okay, okay, I get it.  Thank you for the coffee, and-"

"-and the pretty chef?"

Logan glared.  "Can we go?" 

Patton shrugged, and finished his coffee.

When they got back to Patton's office, Logan politely held the door open.  Patton nodded his thanks, and ducked inside...just in time to run smack into another man, getting knocked to the ground in the process.

Of course, Logan just stood there, holding the foor open, like an idiot.

"Oh, sh-I am so sorry, I didn't see you there, I..." babbled the man, offering a hand to hoist Patton up.  Patton accepted gratefully, but the man pulled just a little too hard.  Patton almost flew up, landing on his feet just inches from the stranger.

The pair locked eyes.

Their hands didn't let go.

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

"H-hey, um, I'm Patton.  Patton Flores," Patton introduced himself, giving the hand he was still holding a small shake.

"Um, uh-Virgil Sullivan," Virgil stammered.  He was in all dark clothes, with purple highlights in his hair and dark eyeshadow.

Neither one made any attempt to move away from each other, so Logan, still holding the door like an idiot, cleared his throat.  Patton and Virgil sprang apart like the other was electrified, trying to act nonchalant.

Logan rolled his eyes, and let go of the door.  As he walked away, he called over to Patton, "V _ergiss nicht, nach seinerseiner Telefo zu fragen!_ "

Logan wasn't sure Patton understood, but he hoped the intent was clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German:  
> Backpfeifengesicht: a face in need of a punch
> 
> Nicht vergess ihnen Telefonummer bekommen: Don't forget to get his phone number
> 
> Yeah, Logan speaks German. I always thought he would speak it. Let me know if I've made an error in the comments, hahapleasecommentpleasecommentpleasecommentpleasecommentpleasecomment...


	5. They Say Blood is Thicker Than Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil finds a cute guy  
> Virgils family is Not Pleased™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been so long, schools back  
> Some homophobia, but not super explicit  
> WE GoT SoME viRGiL POv iN ThiS hoUSe!!

People often said that Virgil was going through a bit of a slump lately.  Virgil thought privately that his entire life was a slump.

For the past, like,  _thirty years_ , his sister, Tiamat, had been calling on him in a character witness in her stupid divorce.  He hadn't actually talked to her, or gone to her house, or even met her husband, yet he still somehow qualified as a witness.

So, now, he was in a meeting with Tiamat's stupid lawyer, James Alexander.  Virgil hated James.  They'd gone to highschool together, and, while James went on to become the skeeziest lawyer ever, Virgil went on to become a complete and utter disappointment.

Last Thanksgiving, Virgil's dad called James the son he'd never had.

While Virgil was sitting next to him.

_To his face._

Plus, there was Steve fucking Smith, all-around son of a bitch, and Tiamat's dumb fucking boyfriend, who he also was forced to interact with.  Steve had zero tolerance for pretty much anything, with a split-second temper to match.

When Virgil told his therapist about how he felt nervous around Steve, his therapist said that wasn't anxiety.  That was goddamn common sense.

Back to James, who was leaning back in his armchair, rattling on about their plan for yet another hearing, like,  _next week._   Apparently, Tiamat's husband couldn't afford a lawyer anymore.

Virgil wasn't sure if that was fair.

After all, he didn't even know the kid's name.

That had to be a bad sign.

Finally, James dismissed him, and Virgil practically sprinted out the door, eager to get home so he could wallow.

Unfortunately, Virgil slammed into another man as he walked out the door, knocking him to the ground.  Virgil's stomach plummeted.

"Oh, sh-I am so sorry, I didn't see you there, I..."  Virgil offered a hand, but the stranger was a lot smaller than anticipated, and when Virgil gave a sharp yank on his arm, he rocketed to his feet, and suddenly, Virgil was spellbound.

This man was breathtaking.  He wore a sky-blue shirt, with what appeared to be a gray cardigan around his shoulders.  His hair was soft, and fluffy, gently brushed back.  Thick black frames perched crookedly on his nose, and small smile wrinkles curled around his eyes.

Dear god, those eyes.  They were a deep blue, but with rings of chocolate brown around his pupils.  They blended into each other subtly, with tiny waves and nuances that Virgil could get lost in for hours.

"H-hey, um, I'm Patton.  Patton Flores."

Virgil felt his hand, all warm and tingling from the hand he was still holding, give slight shake, which he accepted.  A small part of brain reminded him that he was actively getting lost in a stranger's eyes, which he elected to ignore.

Everything was fine.

 "Um, uh-Virgil Sullivan," he added.  They both seemed comfortable to continue standing here until the sun swallowed the earth, until they were interrupted.

A man who, now that Virgil thought about it, had been holding the door open for Patton this entire time, let the door close, and stepped beside Patton.  Virgil couldn't quite understand his words; the accent was harsh and rough.  However, he caught something that sounded like 'telephonummer,' and felt a pale blush creep over his cheeks.

Patton dropped Virgil's hand abruptly, and ran his fingers through his hair.  Virgil shoved his hands in his pockets and fidgeted slightly.  When Patton stayed silent, Virgil turned to leave, an embarrassed blush dusting his cheeks.

"Wait!" squawked Patton, suddenly reaching out to grab Virgil by the shoulder.

They both stopped.  Virgil waited.

"Could, um-could I get your number?" Patton stuttered hopefully.

Virgil kind of went on autopilot.  His anxiety shrieked in the back of his head, but Virgil's hand still tapped out his number in Patton's phone, as if he'd been hynotized.  Hell he'd seen Patton's eyes.  Maybe he had been.

"No problem," he said finally, turning to go.  Virgil paused, and looked over his shoulder.

"See you around."  Patton waived cheerfully, and Virgil skipped over to the bus stop.

* * *

Oh, right.  He just moved in with his awful, awful sister.

Day.  Fucking.   _Ruined_.

Tiamat was lounging on the piano in a silk robe, smoking a cigarette.  Virgil rolled his eyes.

 _No one was even in the house_ , he grouched, slamming the door as hard as he could.  With any luck, it would bounce off the hinges, and Tiamat would have to pay for a new one.

"Virgil, if you would please try to lighten your mood.  Steve will be coming over shortly."

Virgil groaned, and banged his head against the wall.

His phone buzzed, and Virgil scrambled to grab it.

 **Unknown Number** : hey its patton

Virgil smiled, and quickly texted back.

 **V** : Hey pat.  Whats up?

 **P** : I was just wondering if you wanted go out sometime?  Maybe friday?

Virgil smiled down at his phone.

 **V** : sure, what time?

 **P** : is 630 okay?

 **P** : we could go out to eat

 **P** : i know a rly great restaurant, ill pick you up.

 **V** : sounds great!  see you then!

Virgil covered his mouth to hide his smile, and quickly put his phone away.

Tiamat's cold eyes locked onto him, and Virgil glared at her.

"What are you so happy about?" she snapped.

"Got a date.  My therapist is going to be ecstatic," Virgil snarked, bolting to his room.

As soon as he shut the door, a shriek echoed down the hall.  Virgil closed his eyes, tuning out the vitriol.  His family had problems with "imperfections," and, even though therapy was helping, it still hurt sometimes.

"This is why we kept Thomas away from you!"

Virgil winced.  The poor boy had come out a while back.  The whole family had lost their minds.  He hoped that his dad would get custody.  Anything was better than the Sullivans.

_Why so down?  You've got a cute date, who's probably a lawyer, which is excellent, you're putting yourself out there.  Your therapist is going to weep tears of goddamn joy._

Virgil smiled, and flopped on the bed.  Patton _was_ cute.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No language notes  
> Virgil is so much fun to write!  
> Maybe a little OOC, but my goddamn nervous wreck of a friend literally did the exact same thing, so who even knows anymore
> 
> Do the comment thing, tell me what you think
> 
> If you have any requests, hmu


End file.
